Many persons were hurrying toward St.Paul's to witness it from the dome; and consigning his horse to the care of the sentinel on guard at the house opposite, he joined them, and was soon striding along, at a tremendous pace, toward the great cathedral.

Ere he reached it, its long-tongued clock tolled twelve, and all the other churches, one after another, took up the sound, and the witching hour of midnight rang and rerang from end to end of London town.

As if by magic, a thousand forked tongues of fire shot up at once into the blind, black night, turning almost in an instant the darkened face of the heavens to an inflamed, glowing red.

Great fires were blazing around the cathedral when they reached it, but no one stopped to notice them, but only hurried on the faster to gain their point of observation.
Sir Norman just glanced at the magnificent pile--for the old St.Paul's was even more magnificent than the new,--and then followed after the rest, through many a gallery, tower, and spiral staircase till the dome was reached.

And there a grand and mighty spectacle was before him--the whole of London swaying and heaving in one great sea of fire.